


A Young Man with Potential

by AcierGlace



Category: Attack the Block (2011), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Post Attack the Block, Post-Kingsman: The Secret Service
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-05 01:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14605758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcierGlace/pseuds/AcierGlace
Summary: "I'm just paying it forward. Someone thought they owed me a debt. Gave me the chance to prove that I wasn't what my circumstances and bad choices between bad and worse made me to be. They saw all that and still thought I had potential."Moses sits in the police station, and then he's free. Turns out, there's a reason for that.





	A Young Man with Potential

They haven't been back in the room for maybe twenty minutes. 

He's been patched up, somewhat lazily in his opinion, and he's not cuffed to anything. It's better than what he'd thought would happen, but he's been left alone for the rest of the time. And who knows what anyone else is saying. 

They won't find any of the alien bodies, he's sure. 

They'll cover it up, and all the dead feds and people on the streets are going to be put on them. 

Pest won't rat out on him, and he's not sure if Ron would, but Brewis would definitely. Not from the Estates, just down here for drugs, and caught up in alien bullshit, he'd sing whatever they told him to sing and call it the truth. Samantha might back their story, already recanted from her original story, but she's one person. Biggz and the little kids could get out of this if they kept their heads down. 

Moses isn't stupid. Fifteen and angry, which is almost worse, but he's not stupid. 

The only reason they've left him alone for so long is to get to the others and build a case against him. This only ends with jail for life.

When they do come back, he's been stewing for maybe an hour and he's struggling to keep his cool.

“Mr. Bradley, you're free to go.” The police officer isn't even looking at him, eyes just past him on the wall, and he looks indifferent. 

Moses stares. 

“What.” 

“We don't have any reason to hold you. So you're free to go.” 

Moses stands up slowly. The police officer steps out of the doorway to let him pass, and not a single person outside the room meets his eyes or stops him. 

“Hey Moses!” Biggz is standing outside, waving an arm to draw his attention. He's near the police station, but out of the way of all the comings and goings of the people. “Here!” 

“What the hell? Did you call someone? What the hell?” He stops in arms reach, hesitant to get closer for all that they're friends. 

Biggz has no problem, reaches out and grabs him. Moses stills as Biggz breathes in a shuddery breath and squeezes tighter. 

“Shit man, I thought you'd be like armed escorted to the nearest maximum security prison or something. Shit. Shit. Oh shit, man, I'm so happy you're not going to prison.” Biggz pulls away just a little, and he stares. 

Moses pulled the gauze off the claw marks about ten minutes after they put it on him, but now he's feeling self-conscious about it. 

“Man. They almost got you. I thought you'd be dead at the end. How the fuck are you alive right now?” 

“Blind luck,” Moses says, “What happened after they picked us up? Where's everybody else?” 

“Yeah. It was crazy after they booked you. Locked down the building and didn't let anybody back in. That woman, she said there was one of those monsters in her living room if they wanted proof. She was yelling at the police after they took you.” 

“Did they believe her? What else?” He leans out of Biggz's hold and against the wall.

“They took Pest to hospital. He called me about ten minutes ago. They told him he was good to go after the doctors cleared him. Want to go find him?” 

“Yeah,” Moses says, and he pushes off the wall. “Let's go.” 

“He's in King's College somewhere,” Biggz says, “I think he slipped away from the people watching him to call me cause he didn't stay on the phone long.” 

“That's fine. If they let him go like they did me, then we need to find him quick. Did you bring a bike here?” 

“Yeah.” He nods to the one bike leaning against the wall. “Tia said to take her bike since it can ride two. I don't remember where the others are.” 

She must have had more hope than anyone else that they'd get to go free.

“What about your mom? What'd you tell her?” 

“I ran out of minutes and didn't want to risk her grounding me or sitting on me or something. I think she'd smack my hair off for worrying her this much, but I couldn't just let them take you. Or Pest. We're – We're it now. So we've gotta watch each other's backs.” 

He doesn't need to say anything to that, lets his hands talk for him, and reaches out to grab Biggz by the back of the neck. He squeezes once and can feel how Biggz relaxes under his hand. 

“Let's go.” 

They avoid the crowds and busy streets, but it still takes a long time to get to King's College. It's swarmed with people, but no one pays them anymore attention than usual, so they get a lot of unfriendly looks, tense shifting from nervous women, and more than one muttered insult. 

At least the woman at the font desk is polite to them. She doesn't look up from her computer even once, but she's polite about telling them where Pest is.

There aren't any feds outside the door to Pest's room, but when they open the door, there's a man in the chair next to the bed. He looks familiar, but also like he's someone from the ends. He's got Adidas on, the hat, the black and gold jacket, the winged shoes, and he's playing on an iphone. 

He looks up at them when they enter, but just goes back to his phone. 

“My man. Moses. Moses. Hey. I've got a cast for my foot. Hey.” Pest is slumped in his bed, bearily watching them with half-awake eyes. He's not even this bad stoned, so they must have given him very good drugs for the pain. “Check it.” 

Moses cautiuosly aproaches, eyes still on the stranger as Biggz pushes them into the room and to the bed.

“I can't feel anything below my neck. It's amazing.” Pest reaches for him with uncoordinated hands, and the monitor on his finger distracts him. “Oh my god. It's eating me alive.” 

“Pest, what the hell are you on?” Moses catches his hand and presses it to the bed. 

“He wasn't this out of it when he called earlier,” Biggz says. 

“He wasn't supposed to be walking around on his leg, either. So we had them give him something a little stronger. But he had a bit of a reaction to it,” the stranger says, “Didn't expect it to hit him that strong.” 

“And who are you?” Moses asks, foreceful and narrow-eyed. He looks like them, but you can't trust appearances. 

“Anyone asks I'm his brother,” the stranger says, “But I'm really here cause I'm friends with Tia's cousin Brandon and she called him freaking out that there were aliens in the block and a bunch of kids were being blamed for all the people the aliens killed.” 

“And you can help how?” Moses tightens his hand on Pest's, leans a little more in front of Biggz. He killed aliens tonight. He could keep the rest of his friends safe. He could. 

“Already helped you,” the stranger says, “Police charges dropped, and everything not related to the aliens gets pinned on High Hat. And I wouldn't worry about him. He's not got enough connections anywhere to get back out of the hole we tossed him in.”

This wasn't comforting like the stranger thought it'd be. 

“If you've got that much, why only now?”

“Cause I didn't know til now. I'm not stupid enouh to think ours was the only end with problems. Kinda the one defining characteristic of life for us.” The stranger sighs, runs a hand over his face. “I couldn't do enough before for anyone, anyway. Got a shot at something and now here we are.” 

“Here we are,” Moses agrees, “And what do you want?” 

“I'm just paying it forward. Someone,” he pauses, “Someone thought they owed me a debt. Gave me the chance to prove that I wasn't what my circumstances and bad choices between bad and worse made me to be. They saw all that and still thought I had potential.” 

He stands up, and he's not that much older. Older than Tia, but maybe only a few years. He's got the same look in his eyes as every person the block spits out. Moses doesn't trust him for that reason. 

“No matter how they spin it, you saw something bad happening and you did something about it. You were scared, in over your head, had no help, and no one would ever believe in you at the end, but you stepped up and did something that a bunch of kids shouldn't have had to do.” 

He pulls something out of his pocket, and Moses is stock still before he realizes it's a medallion. 

“I was given this. And now I'm giving this to you. There's a number on the back.” It spins at the end of the chain, knot work on one side and a string of numbers on the other. “You ever, ever, end up looking at th barrel end of a bad choice or a worse one, you call this number. Tell them oxfords, not brogues. They'll know who to send it to.” 

Moses doesn't want to take that. It smacks of all kinds of bad promises. Call this super secret number, give them a code phrase, and boom problem solved. 

“And you're just giving it on? Thanks but no thanks,” Moses says as firmly as he can. 

“Mine then,” Pest says, his other hand going up and snatching the medallion out of the air. “Pretty sure I'm gonna be the phone guy.” 

“If anyone's the phone guy, it's totally me,” Biggz protests, and he's wedging in front of Moses to get a look at the medallion. “One time use or do each of us get one?” 

“You took out an alien invasion. You get as many as you want,” the stranger says, smiling a little. 

“Who are you?” Moses steps a little away from the others, but it's just to get some room. The stranger has longer arms, but Moses is gonna bet he's faster. 

“Galahad,” he says. 

“Bullshit,” Pest says, “No bullshit knight bullshit.” 

“Still Galahad,” Galahad says. 

It is bullshit. 

“Fine,” Moses bites out the word. “Guess Moses doesn't have any room to call bullshit.” 

“Lead your people free,” Galahad laughs.

It's the laugh that makes him relax just a little. He hears that laugh from his friends, from himself. You gotta laugh at even the ugly and offensive things, so you end up laughing at every dumb thing too. 

“I'm out. Stay in your bed this time kiddo. Call your friend Tia and let her know you're squared up. We've got people cleaning your place, but you might want to find a couch with one of them for a bit, Moses. Especially while we dig out a fucking adult who isn't your uncle.” Galahad hesitates as he moves to the door, but Moses can tell it's just because it makes him too close to Moses for his comfort, not Galahad's. 

Moses keeps him in front until he's out of the room, and he doesn't hesitate to squeeze Pest's hand one more time, shooting an look at Biggz until he sits on the bed. Then he's out the door, on Galahad's tail as inconspicuosly as he can. Thankfully, hospitals are always in constant motion, and no one has time to get involved in a stranger's problems, so he gets ignored. 

Galahad takes the elevator, but Moses doubt's he's headed anywhere but the front door, so he takes the stairs and draws to a stop just a minute before the elevator. He lingers in the rush of people, but it's easy to spot Galahad. People move out of his way and don't even seem to be doing it. 

He's going to the front doors, but diverts to the waiting room they've got set up in the lobby. He stops in front of a man in a suit, a man who folds up the newspaper he was reading with a snap. He's older, wearing glasses with a lens blacked out, and towers over Galahad when he stands. 

“All done?” he says. Moses stays as close as he can, but if he says anything else, it's too quiet. 

“Yeah. Merlin call?” 

“Not yet. But Lancelot did send a picture of the alien creature with herself in the shot for comparison.” He places a hand on Galahad's back and starts to guide him to the door. 

“You can say selfie. Yeah, it'll sound weird as shit, but that's totally what that is,” Galahad twists and taps the glasses on the wire, apparently familiar enough with the man to get in his blind spot without fear. 

“Are you sure about this?” 

“Definitely. Takes a lot to impress me, you know. Kid's got the potential to be great.” 

“Time will tell, I suppose,” he pushes Galahad gently to the door. “They were very impresive.” 

“They said these things had glowing teeth, Harry. And were like twice their size. And I bet Merlin's actually excited.” 

“Proof of life in the universe. Of course he's excited. The last aliens anyone picked up were little grey men with big heads.”

Moses doesn't follow them out the door. No point. He'd let his friends upstairs, so he'd go back. Maybe Galahad would keep his word and they wouldn't owe him anything. Maybe. Time would tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any inaccuracies. Not British, have never been in the UK, and this hasn't been Brit-picked. Anything glaringly awful, let me know and I'll edit. Nothing planned as a sequel or related universe.


End file.
